


scars; they will not fade, but its power lessens over time

by Kisaru



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisaru/pseuds/Kisaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock wakes up in the middle of the night by Leonard McCoy but not for the usual reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scars; they will not fade, but its power lessens over time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr (logicheartsoul.tumblr.com). Partially written due to the rain, my own personal stuff going on, and inspiration from this Beyond kink meme prompt [here](http://stbeyond-kink.dreamwidth.org/504.html?thread=7928#cmt7928) which deals with body kink and wanting more than a glimpse at Spock's stomach. I was brainstorming the scenario for the fic and this came up. Obviously not the smutty thing they were looking for but separately being worked on now.

It is deep under the cover of real night, not the simulated environment of the ship, when in heavy slumber does Spock wake. He feels the thrum of Leonard’s mind, warm, surrounds him, his breath a steady rhythm. In the lull of dreams, Leonard is all but sensation, vague impressions but present, like the heat of the sun.

A hand creeps under Spock’s shirt, slow, travels up his side. The touch is light, barely skims his skin, almost a ticklish sensation. Leonard’s mind has not changed; he is still deep in sleep but his hand rests over where his injury previously laid.

Spock tries not to shift, tries to fall back into his resting state, but he can only feel the pulse of his heart against Leonard’s hand. It is steady and unchanged.

Spock maneuvers his arm with care, making sure not to jostle him awake with his movements. He then places his hand over Leonard’s own, traces his fingers lightly, almost like a ghost of a feeling. It is soothing, being in the arms of the one who had saved him, _will_ save him, will always _try_ to save him. Spock takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, feeling a comforting heat sink inside, one that has nothing to do with temperature.

Spock is almost on the edge of the first stage of light, meditative sleep when Leonard’s hand grips his side, hears the rustling of the sheets. A nose is pressed against his neck, his lips close to where his neck and shoulder join.

Leonard murmurs into his skin, his voice deep and slurred with sleep, “What’re you doin’ up?”

Spock did not realize he had continued his actions, so focused on his meditation. He stops his fingers and lets it simply lie on top.

His voice is quiet, rough with a night’s disuse, “You.”

Leonard inches closer, his body a living cocoon, his arms surrounding Spock. He feels the long press of Leonard against him, his knee lodged between his own, his arm around his front, gripping his shoulder. Leonard inhales deeply, his nose touching the bottom of his hairline. He can feel the small, blooming smile against his neck, along with surprise and curiosity.

“Me?”

Spock tangles their fingers together, interlocked and intertwined just like they are. “I was woken by the touch of your hand over the location of my previous injury.”

Leonard releases a soft sigh, tightens his fingers with Spock’s. Leonard’s previous state starts to change, the warmth starts to float away to a sensation that Spock could only deem as “bittersweet”.

His lips press against the back of Spock’s neck, once. Breathes him in yet again.

“Spock,” he says; Spock can feel the rising, quiet frustration that Leonard doesn’t want to indulge in.

So, Spock answers for him.

“Does the scar tissue bother you, Leonard?”

Leonard’s body is aligned with every possible point of contact yet it seems not to be enough. Leonard tries to bury his face in the column of his neck, as if he can burrow deep inside. “Yes, _no_ , I–”

He stumbles over the words, chokes in his mouth and his throat. Spock untangles their fingers, re positions Leonard’s hand over the scar tissue. It is not as mottled as it was before; some miracles of science still exist but his body did not heal the skin properly. The scarring is not as thick as it was but it is still there, can remember Leonard tracing the tissue with the pads of his fingers.

Spock covers his hand over his again, this time with a squeeze.

“I am healed now, Leonard. Because of you.”

Leonard’s voice has a slight tremor, a sense of relief but a deeper, wrenching feeling churns in Spock’s gut, and he knows it is the physiological feedback of Leonard’s own.

“Yeah, but Spock…”

He cannot articulate what he wants to say or where to start. It’s a jumble of words, feelings, and thoughts running around in Leonard’s mind and Spock is still shielding himself from breaching the barrier even when they were touching like this. Leonard emotes so deeply, almost deeply as himself, that his emotions run wild, are palpable, like Spock could taste them on his tongue, or reach and grab it with his hands. Spock can read the roiling emotions easily enough, can decipher it without having to delve into his mind.

“You believe this is a reminder of what you could have lost.”

Leonard tries to get closer again but Spock stills his action by grabbing his hand and bringing it to his lips, leaves a long, lingering kiss on his palm.

He moves Leonard’s hand back where it was, tries to impress on him a different truth.

“But it is evidence that I am alive, that you _did,_ indeed _,_ save me. This is a sign that tells me _I_ am alive.”

Leonard doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. Spock feels his gratitude in the press of his mouth on his shoulder, in the soft, hitched breath, in the path of one, wet tear that falls on his skin.

 _Yes, you are_ , he can almost hear Leonard say in his mind.

Spock rearranges their bodies, draws Leonard closer to him for the comfort it brings his mate. The warmth returns, the gnawing feeling retreating away.

“If it still bothers you, we can discuss it in the morning,” Spock concedes, knows that wounds do not mend overnight, not even in the Vulcan healing trance. At least, not fully, not right away.

Leonard’s chest rises and falls behind him, resumes its regular beat. Spock too starts to fall into its soothing, familiar rhythm, his tempo a guide for his meditations.

Before he can begin again, he hears Leonard bid goodnight, and he and Leonard keep their hands together for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who has been waiting for updates on Doctor's Orders, sorry for not writing anything in the last two weeks-ish. Some stuff demotivated me from writing and I took a break from it because the feelings were getting really bad. The last couple of days have started to turn that around for me, starting with this fic, so bear with me. Thanks for sticking around.


End file.
